


Keep the Faith, g

by MizErie



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Flashbacks, Lost Love, Love Notes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 16:36:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizErie/pseuds/MizErie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><img/><br/>Gerard may be a genius with words, but he's never been able to express his feelings for Frank very well. Instead he would give Frank small notes containing a single sentence trying to tell Frank the words he couldn't find. But after Gerard makes a sudden life-changing decision, Frank finds himself reliving what those notes mean to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep the Faith, g

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for Mibba's 2012 Secret Santa. It is proudly and lovingly gifted to one of my regular readers on that site, whom I had the pleasure of randomly receiving as my Secret Santa, FrankinGerard. Merry Christmas, Kaitlyn, and all of my readers!!
> 
> (I know this storyline isn't unique or my ususal genre of oneshots, but I have had this story trying to write itself in my head for weeks. When I got Kaitlyn's Secret Santa request, I knew why I had been trying to write this story! I really hope I was able to overcome the cliché aspect and write something spectactular, or at the least engaging.)
> 
> Author’s Note: This story jumps back and forth from present to past tense a good bit. It is supposed to do that as Frank reminisces about the past.
> 
> Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with My Chemical Romance or the guys that make up the band. No part of this is true; it is purely a fictional story. Any part of this story that resembles real life is only coincidental. No parts of this story may be reproduced or used without permission.

The note simply reads “Frankie, I’m sorry. g” Frank stares at the familiar handwriting like he has done a thousand other times this past week. Gerard had handed him this small note about a week ago right after a show, but more importantly right before he had announced he had proposed to Lindsey. And Frank is used to the brevity of Gerard’s note—they are always only a single, meaningful sentence long—but this one is missing their secret phrase. Frank had used the expression at fan signings, but once Gerard started using it in these notes to Frank, Frank allowed the saying to become their own special thing.  
  
Frank knows it’s ridiculous, but the absence of those three words has caused Frank to lose all hope. ‘Hope I shouldn’t have had to start with,’ he reminds himself over and over. Even though Mikey, Ray, and Bob knew about their relationship, Frank and Gerard never used the word love, but Frank knew that’s what the idiom meant in addition to its literal meaning. And its literal meaning was simply that Frank should always know there was hope for them.  
  
Frank rolls in the bed, laying the piece of paper on top of the nightstand and reaching for the nightstand drawer. He’s just getting over a bad episode of bronchitis, and he’s seriously thinking about using his illness as an excuse to miss Gerard and Lindsey's wedding today. He doesn’t want to go, to watch the love of his life give himself away to another person. Frank’s hand rummages around the drawer in search of tissues but instead finds another crinkled piece of paper. As Frank’s eyes land on the handwriting, he doesn’t have to read the last love note Gerard had given him to know what it says.  
  
“Frankie, I’ve missed you—the ever-changing hazel of your eyes, the heady aroma of your soap after a shower, the whispers of your breathing while you sleep, the hint of salt left on my lips after kissing your sweaty neck, the softness of your skin under my fingertips—as if I were deprived of my senses. Keep the faith. g”  
  
Frank groans and drops the paper on the nightstand with the other one. He wipes his running nose on the sheet, not willing to risk putting his hand back in the drawer. He knows there’s not any other notes in there, though; he has them all tucked away safely in different places. Frank has always thought keeping these notes was completely stupid, but now he’s glad to have them, to have the memories of the times he and Gerard spent together. The last note of affection, the one now laying on the nightstand completely unforgotten, was given to him only two months ago. Gerard had been out of town working on his comic book, and he had left it on Frank’s pillow before leaving the morning after their reunion. But that’s all the time it took for Gerard to replace Frank. And now that damned note seems to be drawing Frank back in time, and the first thing Frank remembers is how Gerard smelled that night.  
  
Gerard had been out with Mikey that night. It had been the first night just the two brothers had gone out together since Mikey and Alicia had been married. Frank heard a knock on his door, and he was not surprised to see Gerard standing there when he opened it. Gerard was far from drunk, but that was his excuse for not wanting to find his way home. He said he feared getting lost or even trying to drive. Gerard smelled of stale alcohol and musty cigarette smoke. Frank knew the smoke stench belonged to Gerard, but Gerard’s eyes were too clear for the alcohol odor to be his.  
  
Frank opened his door further, stepping out of the way and offering Gerard entry. Gerard stepped into Frank’s living room tentatively. He knew what he was there for—he was pretty sure Frank did, too—but he was never comfortable initiating things. Their relationship was undefined, their feelings for each other unspoken. And Gerard knew that was because of him.  
  
“You know I only have one bed, Gee,” Frank said as he shut the door. “And you know my sofa is too shitty to sleep on.” Frank stepped closer to Gerard, into Gerard’s personal space, confirming to Gerard that Frank knew why Gerard was there. The small bit of alcohol that was in Gerard’s system shut down the reasoning part of Gerard’s brain, and Gerard leaned forward. His lips brushed Frank’s, and Frank sealed the kiss. Franks fingertips found their way under the hem of Gerard’s Rolling Stones t-shirt, and Gerard replied by fisting Frank’s hair. Before either of them registered it, they were moving towards to Frank’s bed. Frank fell back onto the bed. Gerard climbed over him, his body a pleasant weight pressing over Frank’s, and…  
  
Frank rubs the heels of his palms into his eyes like it can erase the memory until he can see white spots in the black abyss of the inside of his eyelids. That is just not what he needs to be remembering today. 'Gerard's wedding day' that horrible voice in his head reminds him. Frank groans again, harsher this time, and pulls himself unwillingly out of the bed. He looks at the clock, registering the number of hours before he is supposed to be leaving for the blessed union: three.  
  
Frank meanders into the kitchen. He needs coffee and lots of it. Across the kitchen counter is scattered some unwashed plates, flatware, coffee mugs, and a few takeout boxes. He hasn’t felt much up for cleaning up after Gerard’s little announcement; Frank has been too busy sinking fast into his depression. Frank reaches into the cabinet for his last clean coffee mug and places it on the counter next to the still brewing pot of coffee. He stretches a bit, scratching the back of his head once he finishes loosening his muscles. Frank looks down as his fingernails moved to scratch the overnight’s worth of growth of facial hair on his jaw, and something in his cup catches his attention.  
  
Frank reaches his fingers in and pulls the object out. A small piece of paper is between Frank’s fore and middle fingers. He drops it onto the counter’s surface, knowing it is another note from Gerard, put there who knows how long ago. Normally Gerard just gave Frank the little notes directly, leaving them on his pillow or tucking them into his hand or pocket or lacing them between the strings of his guitar. But occasionally Gerard would hide one, left for Frank to find unsuspectingly. Frank wonders how long this particular note has been waiting to be found in his coffee mug.  
  
Frank eyes the coffee pot. The coffee has finished brewing, so Frank pours him a cup. He raises the mug to his lips and blows on the hot, black liquid. He wants to walk away, to head for his sofa or bedroom or… can he walk to Hell? But his curiosity is keeping him glued to his spot on the floor. He wants to know what this message from the past is. Frank takes a sip of the coffee, allowing his gaze to fall to the white square of paper. The only direction Frank’s body will move is forward, so Frank allows his feet to carry him the two small steps back to the counter. He sits his cup of coffee down, still just looking at the paper. Does he really want to do this to himself? Does he want to remind himself just how close he was to having Gerard for his own? Frank feels like he’s watching someone else pick up the paper and open it up in front of his eyes.  
  
“Just because someone doesn’t love you the way you want them to, doesn’t mean they don’t love you with all they have. Keep the faith, Frankie. g” the note reads. Frank scoffs at the irony. He can’t help but wonder if Gerard knew what was coming when he put this particular arrangement of words in his coffee mug. But another part of Frank is somewhat comforted. This is the closest to an admission of love from Gerard than he has ever gotten before.  
  
Frank picks up his coffee and takes another sip as he walks out of the kitchen, still holding the note in his fingertips. He crosses the living room to his bookshelf, picking up the book that is both his and Gerard’s favorite. As Frank opens the cover of “The Catcher in the Rye” to tuck this new note away for safe keepings, another one falls out from somewhere between the well-worn pages. Frank’s eyebrows draw together as he tries to recall which note he had previously tucked away in this book. Frank deposits the new message into the book’s pages and reaches down for the note on the floor next to his bare feet. The faint yellowing of the paper informs Frank this is an older note. He unfolds it carefully. “Don't say you love me unless it's true, Frankie, because I might do something stupid like believe you. Keep the faith. g”  
  
It was the first time they had been together intimately—Frank wasn’t sure what else to call it; it was too emotional to just be fucking, but they weren’t “making love” either. Gerard had pressed his lips to Frank’s in what the fans liked to call a kiss during the show. But Frank had felt something different in the way Gerard had touched him that time, the way Gerard had ran his long, thin fingers through Frank’s sweaty hair and allowed his lips to linger on Frank’s longer than ever before. Frank had been unable to stop his arm from abandoning his guitar to wrap around the small of Gerard’s back. Then as quickly as Gerard had taken Frank’s attention away from the show, Gerard was gone again, back to prancing around the stage in his sassy way for the screaming fans.  
  
Backstage after the show, Gerard had acted like he always did. There was no mention of their “stage gay” actions, just five guys lying around the green room trying to calm down, catch their breath, and cool off. But soon enough, the others started to make their way back to the bus. Frank excused himself to the bathroom. As he was coming back out, Gerard was coming in. When Frank’s eyes met Gerard’s, their paces slowed until both had quit moving all together, leaving them standing right in front of one another. Gerard’s head just barely cocked to the side as he seemed to drink Frank up with his eyes. Slowly Gerard’s hand rose to Frank’s face, and the pad of his thumb just barely brushed over Frank’s lips. Gerard’s fingers curled around his thumb, and Gerard’s lips appeared to perk with the faintest hint of a smile. Frank blinked, and the spell was broken. Gerard passed on by Frank, so Frank headed towards his bunk in the bus. He desperately wanted to just lie down and stretch out.  
  
Frank had been reading for several hours since the bus had gotten on the road. The hum of the bus engine and the tires moving along the pavement was helping to drowned out the thoughts trying to fill Frank’s mind. He knew Gerard didn’t reciprocate his feelings, so allowing himself to entertain those ideas was nothing more than self torture. Frank heard motion outside his bunk curtain. He assumed it was either Bob needing a cigarette or Mikey getting up to text his new girlfriend Alicia. But the last person he expected to be up at this hour stuck his face into Frank’s bunk.  
  
“You awake, Frankie?” his voice whispered. Frank rolled to look into Gerard’s face. He immediately started scooting over to make space for Gerard in his bunk. While it had never been anything more than an odd gesture of friendship, Frank and Gerard had often ended up in each other’s bunk, so Frank didn’t think anything of offering Gerard some space with his action.  
  
“I’m just reading,” he whispered back. Instead of Gerard instantly climbing into Frank’s bunk, he just stood looking strangely at Frank. “Are you coming up here or should I get off the wall of this bus and get comfortable again?” Frank asked as quietly as he could.  
  
“I don’t want to interrupt your reading,” Gerard replied. That was definitely bizarre for Gerard; he never had a problem interrupting Frank’s reading and normally would tuck his body close to Frank’s to read with Frank, regardless that he was picking up reading somewhere in the middle of the story.  
  
“You’re not interrupting me. I was barely paying attention, so I’m going to have to read most of it again anyway,” Frank lied. Gerard pursed his lips like he was thinking and then climbed in beside Frank’s warm body. “Can’t sleep?” Gerard just nodded his head, disheveling his hair on the pillow they were now sharing. Gerard was being oddly quiet, more quiet than usual. Gerard’s gaze traveled down Frank’s worn out Bouncing Souls t-shirt, and when it found the lower hem, Gerard began twirling the material with his fingers absentmindedly. Frank could see the cogs in Gerard’s mind turning within the expression on his face.  
  
After a short while of silence, Frank spoke up again. “Something on your mind, Gee?” he asked carefully. Gerard’s eyes flicked up to meet Frank’s for a moment before shifting to a random place on the wall behind Frank. “Want to talk about it?” Gerard swallowed hard before he brought his eyes back to Frank’s.  
  
“I just… I feel like…” Gerard muttered and then sighed heavily. “I don’t know how to even say it, Frankie. Fuck, I don’t know what to even _think_ about it.” Frank watched Gerard’s gaze shift between his eyes a few times then down to some destination unknown to Frank. “I shouldn’t have even gotten into your bunk tonight,” Gerard finally mumbled to himself.  
  
“It’s okay, Gee. You know you can always tell me anything,” Frank encouraged him, his inked hand reaching out to rub Gerard’s arm in a reassuring way. Gerard swallowed hard again.  
  
“Frankie, can I…” Gerard took a deep breath, and his forehead creased. “Can I show you something?”  
  
“Anything,” Frank answered. Frank saw Gerard toss a fleeting glance at Frank’s lips a single second before Gerard leaned across the small space between them and pressed his lips to Frank’s. Frank thought he was dreaming at first, but then Gerard made a soft noise that Frank knew he couldn’t have imagined. This wasn’t like their stage kisses either, rushed and sloppy and adrenaline filled. It was soft, purposeful, and emotional. When Gerard broke the kiss, Frank knew exactly what Gerard was trying to say, and he understood why Gerard was having problems finding the right words. How do you tell your best friend something like that?  
  
When Gerard had pulled his head back enough that Frank could see his face again, Frank could read the fear and panic in the expression Gerard was wearing. Frank smiled softly at Gerard and pressed their lips together once again. After a few seconds, Frank felt Gerard’s hand slip down his side and under the elastic band of his boxers. Frank wasted no time in losing the garment. Gerard gave Frank an unsure smile. He didn’t repeat Frank’s action, but instead he pulled his shirt off over his head. The next few minutes were a blur of kisses and touches and stifled utterances.  
  
Gerard hesitated over Frank, and Frank became aware of their situation. They were both completely naked under Frank’s sheet. Gerard was leaning over Frank, his pale skin flush with his undeniable arousal. And they were about to have sex. Frank was unsure how they had gotten to this place in time, but he was certain they were about to have sex. Gerard was asking permission with his eyes, and Frank knew he didn’t have the self control—or desire—to tell Gerard no. Frank merely nodded his head, a motion so small it was hardly visible. Gerard licked his lower lip as the corners of his mouth pulled into a small grin. He pressed his chest to Frank’s in that small bunk and kissed Frank again as he pressed himself inside of Frank.  
  
Frank gasps as the memory of the physical sensation of Gerard entering him that very first time jolts his nervous system and brings him back to the present. He stumbles backwards on weak legs trying to find the sofa. Finally finding it, Frank collapses onto it, his elbows propping him up on his knees with his head hanging low. “The Catcher in the Rye” is lying on the floor, cracked open to a random page from landing there after Frank dropped it. But the off-white slip of Gerard’s soul is still in Frank’s fingers. Frank rubs his face with the unoccupied hand. Why is all of this coming back to him so vividly today? How is supposed to feign merriment for Gerard and Lindsey when he’s falling apart with grief inside? Frank takes a deep breath, willing the tears that have yet to fall to still not come. He needs to just keep progressing through this day, and the next thing he should do is shower.  
  
Frank makes his way back to his bedroom to gather his clothes for the day. Since Frank is one of Gerard’s groomsmen, he is wearing a tuxedo, which is hanging in the garment bag in his closet. As Frank reaches in to grab it, he sees the case for one of his older guitars. He knows he has some of Gerard’s notes tucked away in there. Today is already fucking tragic; he might as well indulge his own desires. Frank doesn’t hesitate and pulls the case out. He lays it on his bed and opens it up. Frank carefully places the instrument on his bed; the notes reside in the small compartment below where the neck of the guitar lies.  
  
Inside that small niche, Frank finds several notes. “Frankie, you should read Pablo Neruda’s XVII. Keep the faith. g” one says. Another reads “To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world. Keep the faith. g” Frank picks up a third, “It is not our words that matter, Frankie, but our actions. Keep the faith. g” Frank sighs; each of these notes brings back a memory. He reaches into the compartment for the last note in it. His hands tremble with his emotions as he unfolds it. “The worst way to miss someone is to be sitting right beside them knowing you can’t have them. Keep the faith, Frankie. g”  
  
Frank had stared at the words longer than he should have after finding the piece of paper. He knew what the words were supposed to mean. It had been a little over a month since they had started this undefined relationship. They had spent more and more nights snuggled together in one or the other’s bunk. The kisses and touches had progressed to sex two more times. Mikey seemed to be the only one that was noticing the changes in their friendship, but Frank knew that was because Mikey was the only one making little comments about it. Frank was sure Ray knew; Ray never missed anything, but he just never figured it was any of his business to mention it. And Bob? Bob never cared about anything enough to notice.  
  
It had been a long day of photo shoots and interviews. Gerard had seemed to make sure Frank was always beside him when they posed for the pictures or sat down in front of the interviewer. Gerard had casually touched Frank more than he normally did in public. And Frank couldn’t even pretend that he could keep his eyes off Gerard or that he wasn’t hanging on Gerard’s every word, every breath.  
  
They were in their van heading for the last interview of the day. Of course Gerard had made sure to get the seat next to Frank in the van. He had been sketching some new artwork and jotting down phrases that he wanted it turn into lyrics eventually. Frank had stretched out the best he could in the confined space, his ankles crossed over Gerard’s lap and his head leaned against the glass. His eyes were closed, and Frank hadn’t noticed he had dozed off until Gerard was waking him up to unload from the van.  
  
Frank was the last one to step out of the van. The cold cut straight through to his bones—being a native Jersey boy, he should have been used to cold by now—and Frank tucked his hands as deeply in the pockets of his hoodie as they would go. He felt something in his pocket, so he pulled it out. After he read it and then stared at it for too long, he looked up to ask Gerard about it, but Gerard was almost halfway to the doors of the building already.  
  
A knock on his door pulls Frank from the memory. “I’m coming,” he shouts as the person knocks again, more urgently. The shouting tickles Frank’s throat wrong, and Frank opens the door midway through a coughing fit, causing him to not realize at first who is standing on his doorstep. When his brain registers that Gerard is the person banging frantically on his door, Frank’s eyes grow wide.  
  
“Wh-what are you doing here?” Frank asks, trying not to sound curt and knowing he still does. Gerard stands awkwardly in his own tuxedo, shifting from foot to foot.  
  
“I know you’ve been sick, and when Mikey said you were already half an hour late showing up and not answering your phone…” Gerard’s voice trails off. Frank turns from the door, walking away from it—and Gerard—with it still standing wide open.  
  
“Then why didn’t Mikey come check on me? Don’t you have more important things to be focusing on today?” Frank calls over his shoulder. ‘Why do _you_ have to be here right now?’ he wants to ask.  
  
“My best friend being sick and no one can tell me where he is or if he’s okay isn’t important?” Gerard asks incredulously.  
  
“Gerard,” Frank sighs heavily and turns to face Gerard. He tries to hold Gerard’s gaze but can’t without tears pooling in his eyes, so he looks past Gerard out the door. “Gerard, you’re marrying Lindsey today,” he mumbles, hoping Gerard catches all the meanings of that sentence. Gerard takes a step inside Frank’s living room and shuts the door behind himself.  
  
“Actually,” Gerard states then stops abruptly. He purses his lips, taking in the pathetic appearance of his former lover. “Actually, I have another note for you.” Frank’s eyes jump up to meet Gerard’s for a brief moment before shifting back down to the floor. “Will you read it?” ‘Of course I’ll read it; I’ve spent the last few hours reading your damn notes,’ Frank thinks, but he settles for a small nod of his head in reply. Gerard holds out a small piece of paper in Frank’s direction. Frank draws a deep breath and takes possession of yet another one of Gerard’s thoughts. He unfolds the paper and forces his eyes to focus on Gerard’s scrawling.  
  
“Of all forms of caution, caution in love is perhaps the most fatal to true happiness. Keep the faith, Frankie. g” This can’t mean what Frank thinks it means. It just can’t. With eyes filled to the brim with tears, Frank slowly looks back to meet Gerard’s gaze. Frank’s raspy breathing is increasing as he begs Gerard with his gaze to explain what this _really_ means.  
  
Gerard starts again, “Lindsey called everything off last night. I managed to convince her to show up at the church today, but when you went missing on us, on _me_ , Lindsey made me see that she was right.” Frank can feel his body vibrating with so many different emotions that he’s not sure which one to focus on.  
  
“Right about what, Gee?” Frank breathes, hoping beyond everything Gerard isn’t going to break him down any further. Gerard pads over to Frank. His index finger brushes Frank’s hair over Frank’s ear and then the backs of his fingers softly stroke Frank’s cheek. Gerard cautiously leans forward and places a gentle kiss over Frank’s lips.  
  
“That for as much as I love Lindsey,” Gerard breathes over Frank’s lips, “I love _you_ more, Frankie.” Frank’s breath catches, and a tear slips over his eyelashes. Gerard smiles warmly at Frank, wiping the tear away with his thumb. Frank immediately collapses into Gerard. He buries his face in Gerard’s chest as his arms wrap around Gerard’s body and his hands fist the back of Gerard’s tuxedo jacket. Gerard puts one arm around Frank’s body and his other hand on the back of Frank’s head. “I’m sorry, Frankie,” he whispers in Frank’s ear. “I’m sorry I ever tried to walk away from you.”  
  
“So… you’re…” Frank doesn’t even know what words to ask.  
  
“I’m yours, Frankie, all yours.” Frank lifts his face from Gerard’s chest. As soon as he does, Gerard’s lips meet his. Frank lets himself get lost in the making of a new memory, in the taste of Gerard’s mouth. Their tongues dance the choreography they have composed together over the years. As the kiss intensifies, Gerard lets go of Frank and begins frantically pulling his jacket off. A line of Gerard’s tuxedo pieces and Frank’s lounge clothes are left scattered on the floor as the two make their way to Frank’s bed. By the time Gerard crawls over Frank’s horizontal body, they are both completely naked. Gerard kisses a trail from the hollow of Frank’s collarbone, across his pulse point, over his jaw, and ending on Frank’s lips.  
  
Frank’s cough breaks the kiss. He wipes his running nose on the sheet once again. “You’re going to catch my funk,” Frank manages to mutter.  
  
“I don’t care. I’ve missed this,” Gerard murmurs as he nuzzles his nose under the edge of Frank’s jaw. “I’ve missed _you_.”  
  
“I’ve missed you, too, Gee. God how I’ve missed you!” Frank utters as their mouths make contact again. Gerard grinds his dick into Frank’s thigh, and Frank opens his legs to Gerard. Gerard settles himself between Frank’s thighs. He slides his hands under Frank’s ass, gripping it in both hands. Frank digs his fingernails into the skin on the back of Gerard’s ribs, leaving red, half-moon imprints behind. Gerard presses his lips to Frank once more, lingering for a moment, before reaching for the lube he knows Frank keeps in his nightstand drawer.  
  
“Do I need to—”  
  
“No… god, just… please,” Frank cuts Gerard off. His voice is breathy. Gerard quickly slicks himself up.  
  
“Ready?” Gerard asks in his own thick and gravelly voice. Frank just nods, moaning as he feels the head of Gerard’s dick pressing against his entrance. Gerard presses into Frank, and his eyes flutter shut. Frank groans as Gerard stretches him open. Gerard slowly pulls out a couple of inches and gently pushes back in. Frank wraps the back of his ankles around the insides of Gerard’s knees.  
  
Frank arches his back, and Gerard starts a steady tempo of movements with his hips. Frank has to keep his eyes on Gerard’s face. He fears if he closes his eyes he’ll wake up and this will all be a dream. Gerard brushes against Frank’s prostate, and Frank’s eyes crush shut.  
  
“Gerard,” he chokes out. Frank’s nails find their way to the skin of Gerard’s back again. Frank claws for Gerard to push into him harder, for breath, for something to assure him this is real. Gerard grunts as Frank leaves red lines over his shoulder blades and down the sides of his spine. Frank forces his eyes open again. Gerard is still there, still looking down at Frank with love written all over his expression. As Frank watches Gerard over him, Gerard’s breath catches and his eyes shut tightly. Gerard thrusts his dick deep inside of Frank and cums. Frank knows he will never tire of seeing Gerard’s face as Gerard climaxes.  
  
Without pulling out, Gerard starts stroking Frank’s dick. Frank arches into the contact with Gerard’s hand. Gerard’s long fingers deftly work at bring Frank to his own peak, knowing all the sensitive places to touch and rub. But the friction isn’t what pushes Frank over the edge.  
  
Gerard slows the motion of his hand for a moment to press a kiss to Frank’s lips. “I love you, Frankie,” he whispers to Frank as he breaks the kiss. _That_ is what does it for Frank. He cums hard in Gerard’s hand.  
  
Gerard slides out of Frank and snuggles close to Frank’s side as Frank pants for breath. When Frank seems to be able to breathe a little better, he presses his body closer to Gerard’s. Gerard nuzzles the side of his face into the top of Frank’s head.  
  
“I love you, Frank,” Gerard states again. Frank laughs softly.  
  
“You’ve said that already,” he replies in jest. Gerard hugs Frank closer.  
  
“Yeah, but I have a lot of time, a lot of missed opportunities to tell you that, that I need to make up for.” Frank smiles in spite of himself.  
  
“I love you, too, Gerard.”


End file.
